


and I wonder if this'll all work out

by fickle_fixations



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Body mutilation kinda, F/M, Frenchie is certIainly mortal, I'm so screwed, Kimiko POV, but they married so it's all good, he has a wedding band and everything, hurt with only a bit of comfort, i really really really like this one, it's 5:30 AM, it's just pain, it's serge miyashiro now, lots of pain, not edited, protective kimiko, slight comics spoilers, they're literally married, wife - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27225448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickle_fixations/pseuds/fickle_fixations
Summary: It was strange - knowing someone else’s body better than your own. It was stranger still, watching that body grow old and change while yours stayed almost exactly the same.... Then there was this change. This one was unexpected and sudden and something she could have stopped.
Relationships: The Female | Kimiko Miyashiro/The Frenchman
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	and I wonder if this'll all work out

It was strange - knowing someone else’s body better than your own. It was stranger still, watching that body grow old and change while yours stayed almost exactly the same. 

Not everything about Serge’s body had changed. He still had the same freckles that dotted his left hand. There was at least one on every finger. The single brown dot on his ring finger was now hidden by two intertwined metal bands - one made of gold and the other of silver. 

He still had the same way of unconsciously shifting closer to her whenever she was nearby. “Like a magnet,” he had said. “I am like a magnet to your steel, Mon Coeur.”

But then there were the changes. The scars that adorned his body - the scars she once knew so well, the scars she had traced and kissed and had learned to read like braille beneath her fingertips - many of them had faded to the point where they could hardly be seen or felt. He gained new scars over the years, many of which she had dressed and stitched herself when they were fresh wounds. She didn’t need to read those scars, because she was there when they were written. But she learned to love them anyways.

Then there was this change. 

It was bad enough knowing that the body of the man she loved could one day grow old and withered and… run out of time. And all these things would happen while she may or may not remain unchanged - while she might have an unbearable amount of time left. Time without him. Time which she would have to use to bury her heart. 

At least that change would be gradual. At least, when it came to that change, she would have time to prepare. 

This one was unexpected and sudden and  _ something she could have stopped _ . 

It had happened in a flash - a flash of bright and menacing red. His screams still echoed in her eardrums and made her heart pound harder and faster with desperation. 

There was the flash. The scream. The blood. His blood. And it was everywhere. Red flowed onto the ground as he collapsed and red flooded her vision. When it did - when all she could see was red and all she could hear were the cries of the other half of her soul - she tore through bodies like the animal she vowed she would never be again. When she finally got to him, the whole room was coated in a sickening shade of red.

His right arm was nowhere to be seen. The body she knew so well was changed - severed, just above the elbow. 

She wrapped her shirt around what was left of her husband’s arm as best she could with her shaking hands, but when she picked up his limp body and held him close to her chest, red flowed onto her clothes and her skin and pattered onto the ground with a sound like light rain.

She carried him to the van. As she did, she focused on the alarmingly faint feeling of his breath against her neck and the shallow rising and falling of his chest. She clung to these small signs that he was still living. That they hadn’t yet run out of time. 

Time. His heart beat in rhythm with the second hand on the clock. Electronic ‘beep’ and mechanical ‘tick’ sounded in unison, making a strange harmony that he probably would have appreciated more than she. 

She shifted her gaze from where it had been glued to the second hand of the clock to the sleeping,  _ changed _ body of the man she loved. 

At the end of the day, Serge had survived, but he had also been robbed. He had been robbed of the use of his hands. 

Every bit of him was precious, but his hands even more so. It was with his hands that he had said his first word in her native tongue. It was with his hands that he left his mark on this twisted world and made it better. His hands which he used to cook and create and destroy. His hands which had been made to form perfectly to every inch of her body.

She supposed he had only been robbed for a short while. Her genius, strong, resilient Serge would figure out a way around every obstacle this change would bring him. And through it all she would be by his side. 

When they first met, he had helped her have a voice. Now she would help him in any way he needed.

There was a slight shift in the sleeping body before her. Clock and heartbeat fell just barely out of sync. He was waking up.

Kimiko caressed his cheek ever so lightly, her fingertips trailing over stubble. Before his eyes had even opened, he was leaning into her touch. Drawn closer like a magnet to steel. 

This was one thing she knew would never change. One thing that had been constant from the moment she first looked at him - when she had really looked at him for the first time, both of them crouched beneath a table in an underground Radioshack, when he practically offered her his heart in his hands.

This thing that would never change, that was as constant as the rising and setting of the sun, were his warm brown eyes that shone with the light of his brilliant, blazing, vibrant soul. His eyes that looked at her the same way then as they did now, with pure, unwavering love.

“Mon Coeur,” he breathed her second name, the pain he was in evident in his strained voice. 

He reached up towards her with the one hand he had left. When his fingers found her cheek, a slight smile graced his lips. 

Her Serge was so strong, but he was in so much pain. It broke her heart. And it hurt. Seeing him in so much pain and watching as he had struggled back from the brink of death, fighting his way back all on his own, had hurt more than every time she had died. 

Kimiko tried to smile, as the tears began to fall. 

She sunk to the ground, kneeling at his side and letting her head come to rest on his chest. She was supposed to be strong. She was supposed to be steel. But she couldn’t fight the weakness this pain caused her.

With weak, slow movements, Serge brushed her tears away with his thumb. 

She closed her eyes and she could hear the steady beat of his heart. She could feel her own falling into sync with his.

When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was met by his same, warm, reassuring, half-lidded eyes. 

She knew his body had always been destined to change, but his soul would forever stay the same. 

They would face the trials and changes the future had in store together. Anchored to one another. Magnet and steel. He, her unchanging soul and she, his unwavering heart.

**Author's Note:**

> With this fic I really just wanted to get across the even deeper closeness that time will bring them - how they can tell things about each other from the slightest, near imperceptible changes. So that's why they're married in the fic despite the fact that they probably don't believe in traditional marriage. They're also married because I thought it would be cute and I was going to add a line where a doctor refers to him as 'Serge Miyashiro' but I never found a good place to put it in. One day I'll write a fic where they're married and he has her last name and I get to expand on my ideas as to why he does that. But I guess today was not that day.
> 
> The title comes from Without Fear by Dermot Kennedy
> 
> Check out my Tumblr for more content and information about the 100 ways to say I love you challenge.


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